


Camelia

by alkjira



Series: Evergreen [8]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lindir was happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camelia

**Author's Note:**

> (Set before War Is The Trade of Kings)

Lindir was happy. He had Bard, the children and Lord Elrond all beneath the same roof , and while he'd not failed to notice that Bard was nervous enough around Lord Elrond that one might think that the latter would try and declare Bard King of the known world, things were good. Very good.  
  
He couldn't even remember when they had been better.

Sliding in to bed next to Bard that night, after _finally_ being home again made Lindir realise once and for all that he really, truly, was home. Home wasn't Rivendell anymore, and hadn’t been for some time. Home was wherever he could sleep next to Bard, and-

Their bedroom door was open just a smidge and Lindir’s lips quirked upwards as he heard the soft rumbles of Tilda’s snores coming from across the hallway. 

He was thankful that the children had their own rooms, but he very much did not mind the reminder that he was back with them. He’d missed them, not in the same way he’d missed Bard, but just as much.

When Bard's arms wrapped around him, Lindir's smile widened into something that could only be said to be a grin, and he turned to press his face to the crook of Bard's neck, breathing in deeply and finally,  _finally_ allowing himself to relax.

"Lindir," Bard said softly, his arms tightening a little and Lindir moved closer in turn, slipping one leg between Bard's and pressing his lips against Bard’s skin. One of his hand was already curled into Bard's hair and Lindir brought his other hand up to lie on Bard's chest, over the steady thump of his heart. To Lindir every beat said _‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here’_.

"I'm so glad to be home," he murmured.

“We are happy to have you." Bard pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You and- Lord Elrond.”

That was one of the things Lindir had observed. Bard was not one for titles, but since Lindir and Lord Elrond’s arrival he’d not missed adding the Lord even once. He treated Lord Elrond with a great deal more deference and respect than he’d ever shown King Thranduil, or King Thorin, perfectly courteous, and Lindir wanted him to stop.

It just, it wasn’t Bard. Not that Bard couldn’t be courteous, and he was always considerate, but he could also ask you to help dig a ditch minutes after meeting you. Having him act like a courtier… no, that wasn’t Bard.

Not being able to stop himself from giving Bard another kiss; this time to the corner of his jaw, Lindir tugged lightly on a dark lock of hair.

“My love, there is no need for you to change the way you act just because Lord Elrond is here. Be yourself, because you are perfect as you are.”  
  
Bard was silent for several moments before letting out a deep sigh. “He means a lot to you. I want to make a good impression.”  
  
“You already have,” Lindir promised, stroking his hand over Bard’s chest. “He said that he is happy for me.”

Even if Lord Elrond had said so before meeting Bard it did not make it any less true. If his Lord hadn’t approved Lindir would know.

“You were right you know,” Bard said, and Lindir turned to meet his eyes. “He is pretty impressive.”  
  
It wasn’t very dignified to giggle, but Lindir did it anyway.  
  
“That he is,” he agreed, lifting his head to peck Bard on the mouth. “But I still prefer you.”  
  
“I’m going to pretend that doesn’t comfort as much as it does.” Bard cupped Lindir’s jaw, returning the kiss. “Thank you for putting up with me.”  
  
“It is no hardship,” Lindir promised, pillowing his head on Bard’s shoulder and returning his hand to its place over Bard’s heart.

 _‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.’_  
  
-

Breakfast was… interesting.  
  
Sigrid was hanging on every word from Lord Elrond’s lips, at least when she wasn’t glaring at her siblings for daring to include themselves into the conversation, or for sticking their tongues out at her when Bard wasn’t looking. (For clarity’s sake; the latter was all Tilda.)

But once Lord Elrond had begun to share the tale of Beren and Lúthien, Bain and Tilda were just as entranced, if not more so, as Sigrid.

That said, somehow they two of them managed to disrupt the story enough that Lord Elrond found himself telling them about werewolves, doing his best to keep any less suitable details out of the story.

Bard was mostly silent, mainly adding a comment here and there, and making sure Tilda did not continue to pry into details that Lord Elrond was clearly trying to steer away from.  
  
He seemed much more relaxed than he’d been during dinner the night before. To mention a few things he no longer held his fork as if he was afraid of it biting him. Or as if there’d be a examination on appropriate table manners. And he didn’t constantly address Lord Elrond with his full title; it still happened from time to time, but there was also the more (for Bard) normal sort of questions like: “Would you like more bread?” entirely void of honorifics.

The children had apparently decided that Lord Elrond already belonged to the family, as they paid little attention to manners, but Bain scraped some together at the end of the meal and offered to do the dishes.

“I need to get to the council,” Bard sighed. “There’s still much to do before winter comes, and everyone has got their own bright ideas of how to do it.”

“I’ll look after Lord Elrond,” Tilda chimed. “Would you like to go to the pond?" she added, looking hopefully at him. "There’s lots of frogs there now, but I kinda miss the tadpoles. They were cute. And wriggly.”

“There are dragonflies too,” Sigrid said. “They’re very pretty, and not slimy,” she added, wrinkling her nose at Tilda.

“I’d be delighted,” Lord Elrond said, and Lindir suspected that he was the only one seeing the amused glint in his Lord’s eyes.  
  
“Someone needs to feed the chickens,” Bard pointed out. “And since Bain is going to clean up after breakfast it’s not going to be him.”  
  
“I can walk you to the town hall and come back and do it,” Lindir said, returning Bard’s smile when it was aimed his way. That was well worth having to feed the cackling little monsters. Yes, Lindir had little fondness for chickens. They smelled, they made entirely too much noise, they couldn’t be reasoned with, and they were rather ill tempered at that.

Tilda had once asked him, and only the Valar knew what the girl got her ideas from, if he’d prefer to fight one horse-sized chicken or a hundred chicken-sized horses, and after Lindir had properly digested the question the answer had been simple, and he definitely preferred the small horses as it was unlikely that they’d do anything other than run away if he shouted at them.

“You’ll all be back for dinner I hope?” Bard asked. “I thought we’d make something special to properly celebrate that Lindir is back, and that we have a guest. There wasn't much time for it yesterday.”  
  
“I thought I could make dinner,” Lindir suggested.  
  
“You making your own welcome home dinner rather defeats the purpose.”  
  
“I’ll cook,” Bain sighed. “I’m better at it anyway.”

Bard snorted. “I won’t argue that, but you don’t have to do it. I can make sure I’ll leave a little earlier.”

“It’s okay, Da’.”

“Great!” Tilda jumped down from her chair. “Come on then, the frogs are morning people.”

“Frogs aren’t people,” Sigrid said, but she also got up, taking both of their empty plates and glasses, glancing at Lord Elrond before taking his as well. When he smiled and thanked her a blush immediately bloomed on her cheeks, and Bain rolled his eyes before rising as well, gathering up the rest of the plates.

“Go on then,” he said, nodding at them.

“See, this is what happens when you leave,” Bard said to Lindir. “The children take over the house.”  
  
“We did that a long time ago, Da’,” Bain said, patting Bard on the shoulder as he passed him on the way to the kitchen. “Nice of you to notice.”

-

“He seems to be good with children,” Bard said as they walked towards the town hall.  
  
Lindir nodded. “He has three of his own after all, and Estel of course.”

Bard hummed, jumping a little when Lindir reached out to take his hand.

“You don’t have to,” he said, giving Lindir’s hand a small squeeze.

“I’d like to,” Lindir replied. “If it’s acceptable for you?”  
  
“Of course,” Bard said. “Short of you getting undressed and jumping me in public I don’t think we could do anything that’s not been seen before.”

“I’ll try and restrain myself,” Lindir said mildly, smiling when Bard tipped his head back and laughed.


End file.
